


The Flower Disease

by ArgentAconit



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flower Language, Love sickness, before the end of season three, damon deserves happiness, drabble mostly, elena centric, elena deserves happiness, establishing a relationship through dire circumstances, hanahaki, multiple mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentAconit/pseuds/ArgentAconit
Summary: It started as a persistent cough, one that tickled her throat on occasion. How was she supposed to know that it would end up like this? Spitting flowers left and right, each one depicting her emotions the longer she suffered this ailment. Some tearing at her and others coming so easily she barely even realizes they've left her body until they're visible, right there in front of her.





	1. Musk Mallow

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to mention that this is mostly rough work without much focus on what will happen as consequence to the end of the story. I wrote it slowly over the course of a week and I understand that it jumps from one emotion to the next in some places but that's just how this one worked out. They may seem a little out of character, and I apologize for that but I'm not quite attuned to their personalities here. (:
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway! Happy readings!

Her lips tasted like blood. All of the time.

At first, it had been a simple thought of a scraped gum every now and then. She liked food that was crunchy and salty, she wasn't unfamiliar with the effects it had on her. It didn’t matter that she hasn’t had anything abrasive recently. It didn’t matter if she avoided hot drinks. The taste lingered; it grew, it faded, but it always lingered. She could inhale and exhale, and with each breath it was like a wash of hot, powdery iron painted her lungs, stained her teeth, even drug over her tongue.

 

She didn’t tell anyone about it because she figured eventually it would go away. Maybe it was because she was always around vampires, maybe it was because she still remembered the smell of blood every time she got near Damon or Stefan or Caroline. Maybe it wasn’t really there, because no one ever mentioned it whenever they got close to her. This could all be an illusion she created from the guilt she felt every time someone was harmed because of her decisions. And that guilt grew month by month as more people died or more people were forced to forget because she couldn’t make the right choice.

 

Their relationship was back on the off phase. Her and Stefan. All they ever did was fight anymore, and she was so tired of trying to fight to make it work. Sometimes she was certain she had antagonized a few of them herself just to push him away, to get his too pure, too focused love away from her.

 

And Damon. Oh, Damon. Her eyes had been following him since the first day she had met him and yet every time he got emotional he did something that got under her skin. Good and bad. Those blue-grey eyes pierced her to the core whenever he looked at her and she knew that it wasn’t entirely fear driven now when she would cross her arms in front of herself or jump at his touch. Fingers that were work worn over centuries carried this softness to them that left an urgent sensation under her skin and it was so hard to struggle against the desires that sprung up whenever they were near each other.

 

She hated herself for it and reveled in it at the same time.

 

A series of coughs wracked through her as she stood in the Salvatore kitchen, cup in hand, rattling against the sink where she had tried to pour herself a glass of water. There was this constant tickle that scratched and taunted her at the back of her throat and no matter how much water she tried to drink it persisted. Elena leaned into the countertop and tried to take a few slow, deep breaths as feet strode down the hall to her little hiding spot. What a great hiding spot it was, in the kitchen of a vampire household that could hear every little thing that happened.

 

She coughed again, her other hand splayed out against her chest and eyes pinched closed.

 

“Elena?”

 

Ruddy brown eyes flickered open and turned to find Damon rounding the island with eyebrows brought together in that way he loved to do when he was looking at her. His mouth was tight, the muscles around his jaw flexed as he swallowed after a slow, steadying breath. Worried but trying to act casual. She smiled meekly and cleared her throat, turning back to the glass braced against the inner edge of the sink, “I think it went down wrong, I’m fine Damon.”

 

A peculiar petal floated against the surface of her drink and she looked around to see where it might have come from. It was small, almost the same shape as an arrowhead and the softest lavender shade. The edges tinged a beautiful dusky pink and the point a graduated white. The Salvatores made it a point not to keep a lot of flowers around and even though the window above the sink was open she couldn’t see any similar plants outside. It left her asking, “Where did this come from?”

 

Damon’s fingers slid warmly over the back of hers to retrieve the cup and raise it to his face, though he seemed just as confused by it as she was. But after a few seconds of examining it, he shrugged and sat the glass down in the basin, “You must have brought it in. C’mon, you’re missing out on Stefan lecturing blondie.” He pulled her in under his arm and she easily forgot the mystery petal as they went back to the front room where their little coven had collected for the evening. Warm and comfortable against Damon's cool side, under his strong arm and hand.


	2. Milkvetch And Stock

Three weeks later she had another coughing fit. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes as she sat doubled over on the foot of her bed, phone clutched between shaking fingers as an alarmed voice kept calling her name on the other side. Her head was pounding just from the force of each contraction of her lungs, but what worried her more was the faint pink speckling that painted her palm as she gasped for breath.

 

The next set of coughs brought about a flurry of curled petals that were stained red but were once cream and purple. It was startling to see it, to feel petals sweep up her throat and drop against the hardwood flooring of her bedroom. They almost looked like orchids, almost. They were too small and it didn’t look like any of them were the whole flower but panic grasped at her stomach and encouraged the welling tears to fall. She was coughing up flowers! Flowers…. And blood.

 

A rush of wind was her only warning that someone was there with her before strong hands gripped at her shoulders, unsure of what to do. She assumed it had been Stefan because she was on the phone with him when she started coughing but a blurred, well-worn, black, leather boot snuck into the corner of her vision. Stefan didn’t wear those boots. She could faintly hear him calling up the stairs as he rushed to her aid but before he even managed to get to her room she slumped into the hands holding her up. Her face pressed into a smoke and alcohol infused shirt and her fingers clung desperately to a cooled leather jacket just as everything faded out.

 

When she woke up she was cradled into an unfamiliar softness with a gentle wind brushing over her face and the filtered light of sunset painting the back of her eyelids a warm, deep peach. The sound of distant conversation echoed into the room and her eyes tightened as she became more and more aware of her surroundings, “Looks like sleeping beauty finally awakens.” Damon’s voice sounded to her left and she turned her head to look at him, only to realize they were in his room.

 

Her heart thumped awkwardly in her chest but she couldn’t muster the energy to be anxious about lying in his bed. She opened her mouth to ask why she was even there in the first place but a cool fingertip pressed against her lips and he tsked at her, “Doctor Bonnie has decided that you shouldn’t speak yet. That might be hard for you since all you know how to do is speak.”

 

Elena’s expression voiced her opinion on that but he understood what she was asking when her eyebrows rose across her forehead. His hand fell away and he sighed as he slumped back into the chair that had been pulled to rest beside his bed. He twirled his fingers meaninglessly and pulled that half smile he liked to use when he spoke to her in that brushed-off tone, “When you passed out in your room we found flowers between your feet covered in blood. Called in the little witch to see what has you spitting up a garden.”

 

When the look persisted on her face he rolled his eyes, “She hasn’t found anything yet. Her little book collection doesn’t mention anything about this kind of thing. Now, will you put those things back where they go? Your forehead is going to be as wrinkled as Stefan’s if you keep looking at me like that.”

 

That comment made a pretty little smile creep over her lips until the tickle in her throat came back full force and she found herself braced over the edge of the bed as she coughed up more of those petals they found in her room. Damon’s hand was strong on the nape of her neck, holding her hair out of her face and steadying her even as he faux-mourned having to replace his area rug under the bed, “I just got that one, you know.”

 

A full flower choked her as it came up, wilted and bruised with clots of blood clinging to the center. It would have been pretty if she hadn’t known it came from her lungs, or if it weren’t blood giving it that deep red sheen. More loose petals chased after it, fluttering heavily as they somersaulted to the ground, decorated in a crimson spray just as those before them had been. “Come on Elena, breathe. Just breathe.”

 

Stefan must have heard her and Damon if their appearance in the room were any indicator. Bonnie rushed over to her but stopped as she looked at the mess of gore and flora that continued to grow, “Why is this happening?!” Damon’s voice had an edge to it that demanded answers and Elena tried to calm him but her hand scrambling over his knee only drew Stefan’s attention. Stefan who knelt down in front of her and looked into her watering eyes as Damon stood to pace between the footboard and bathroom, collecting towels and the trash bin as well as a glass of water.

 

Bonnie only shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t know. It doesn’t look anything like the curse I found earlier. I need more time.”

 

“For your sake, I hope you figure it out fast.”

 

Stefan reached down to pick up the full blossom and the Corolla that finally ceased to fall from her mouth and handed them to Bonnie on one of the washcloths Damon had grabbed in his rush to help. “Take them with you, see if the specific flower will help you narrow it down. Elena, do you know how long this has been happening? How long have you been coughing?”

 

She shrugged weakly and swallowed around the scraping sensation that was left in her body. Her chest felt bruised and she was sure she looked the picture of sickness right now, “I don’t know,” Her voice was raw and scratchy, but the way Stefan grasped her hand in his didn’t bring her any relief, “Two, three months? I think today was the first time with this coming up…” She fanned her other hand out toward the petals in Bonnie’s care and let Damon help her lay back down, propped against the unnecessary amount of pillows on his bed. Stefan’s cool touch slipped away and she curled her arms around her stomach.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” There was a color of something in Stefan’s voice that she didn’t quite understand.  Elena looked at him as he rolled back onto his feet, wrinkles at full blast as he rubbed blood onto his already ruined jeans. He tried to look everywhere but the puddle touching the soles of his shoes and she felt guilty, knowing that he still wasn’t stable and yet he was there trying to comfort her. He deserved so much more than what she could give him, and yet she still couldn’t seem to let him go.

 

“I thought it was dust and dry air, Stefan.” The glass Damon had filled was pressed into her hand and she drank from it gratefully but with caution. She wanted to try and prevent herself from swallowing the wrong way and making matters worse, again. Thankfully the water was cool and crisp, soothing her aching throat enough that her next words didn’t sound like she had been desiccating for centuries, “How was I supposed to know that it was going to turn into this?”

 

Stefan took the glass from her and sat it on the nightstand, avoiding the edge of pink around the rim of the glass like it would tarnish him somehow. She offered up a faint smile and sat her hands back in her lap, “Go change, see if you can help Bonnie find whatever it is. Damon can keep an eye on me… I know you’re still having a hard time with blood.” A flash of guilt skittered through his eyes as he stood there and tried to think of some reason that he should stay. She didn’t offer him any alternatives, and before too long he dipped his head and left the room with a quiet ‘alright’. His arm stretched to corral Bonnie toward the door as she looked at Elena with worry drawn eyebrows until they were out of sight.

 

“I’ll find it, Elena, just hang on.” Bonnie’s voice edged around the frame and Elena knew that the words were true. Bonnie always came through for her, no matter what the cost.

 

“You’re putting a lot of faith in me today,” Elena fully sank into the pillows and drew Damon’s duvet up to her chin before turning her attention to him. That pinch between his eyebrows had made a return appearance and she hummed softly in response. He took up residence on the edge of the mattress instead of in his chair and she was thankful that it meant she didn’t have to turn her head to look at him. Really, it was almost painful how expressive he was now compared to when he first came to Mystic Falls. Or maybe he had always been that expressive and she had been too wrapped up in Stefan to notice it.

 

“You got to me first. I woke up in here, unscathed and with you just sitting there watching me- which wasn’t creepy at all by the way. I just figured you and Stefan had agreed on something for once. Guess I was being stupid again, thinking that you two could work together without fighting,” She loved the way his eyes lit up in the sunlight, so blue-grey they almost reminded her of glaciers or mirrors or something more romantic to compare them to. They crinkled as he smirked at her, but she wished that crease between his eyebrows would go away. She wanted to know what a truly happy Damon looked like.

 

“Yes, you were. I’ll let it slide this time, but you definitely owe me one for the rug.” It hurt to laugh but she still found that she had the energy to do it. A mist of miniscule petals fluttered gently across the duvet, free of blood and looking more like springtime confetti than the grotesque painting that stained the rug. Damon pinched a few between his long fingers and examined them with that worried draw to his brow and the tight line that wrinkled at the corners of his eyes. She released a slow breath and felt more confetti dance over her tongue; it brought a surprisingly sweet taste and the clawing in her body eased minutely.

 

“These look different. Certainly better than the last round, that’s for sure. How’re you feeling?”

 

“It doesn’t hurt as much,” She admitted, feet shifting under the cover. The smattering of flora decorating the cream duvet was almost beautiful. Hues of warm, brilliant maroon, white, magenta and a deep velvety purple breezed further and further down their massive canvas with each exhale, easing the tight grasp in her ribcage.

 

“I should take these to Bonnie, give her something else to narrow this down,” Damon swept them into one hand and she frowned at the thought of being left alone. What if another flower tried to choke her? Sure, the Salvatores were vampires and had speedy reflexes, but her stomach clenched at the thought of Damon going through the door.

 

“Stay… Please. I don’t think I want to be alone right now.” Her eyes pleaded with him, but he still shifted back to stand beside the tall bed, “Please, Damon.” The delicate confetti that had been escaping her suddenly had some of the earlier petals intermixed, flaked in scarlet. It was enough to make Damon stay with her, though he looked at the door like he hoped someone would come to take his place.

 

His handful of flora went on the nightstand and instead of sitting in the chair or on the corner of his mattress as he had earlier he climbed across her shins and settled in beside her against the headboard. His ridiculous legs stretched down so that his toes flagged past her own, his feet bare and skin pale even against the cream covers. She instinctively leaned her head against his shoulder and felt him slide his arm around to cradle her into his chest. “Careful, I’ll start thinking that you like me.”

 

Elena felt her lips twitch up into another small smile at the notion even if it gripped at her heart in a truly crushing way. She wondered if that was what it felt like to have a vampire shove their hand through your chest and caress the one thing giving you life. “If you keep treating me like this I just might,” she teased, words muffled by the blanket and his faded, dark grey shirt.

 

Damon was easily one of the more comfortable pillows she had rested on. Even if his heartbeat was unnaturally slow, pushing blood through his system at such a sluggish pace that she wondered if she drifted between beats. His chin came to rest against her hairline and that alone brought so much comfort, “Well, don’t get used to it. I’m the bad guy, remember?” Fingers pulled her hair back away from her face and Elena just hummed in response, asleep again between one breath and the next.

 

As she slept plumes of flowers continued to collect in the valley between their bodies. Small, sticky clusters of yew, blossoms of milkvetch and stock flower intermingling with each other and dancing on the occasional warm breeze that toyed with the curtains, throwing a vast array of color over the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milkvetch - Your presence softens my pains  
> Stock Flower - Contentment/Bonds of affection
> 
> Milkvetch was sort of flopped around on this part, but the meaning is still there if you squint and tilt your head.


	3. Dog Rose

This was a rare luxury that she wondered if she would ever get to indulge in once she was back on her own feet. The soft scent of vanilla and the thick layer of fluffy, white suds almost made her forget the fact that she was cursed with some kind of plant that was trying to choke the air from her lungs. She grimaced as another large burgundy petal scraped against her throat. Sure it didn’t scratch or bring blood but even if the petals were velvety to the touch it still wasn’t pleasant to have them climb their way out of her lungs.

 

She plucked it from the bed of bubble bath protecting her modesty and dropped it into a champagne glass that Bonnie had delivered to collect the debris still tormenting Elena. It was supposed to turn the liquid inside the glass a sickly blue if it was one of the small few curses Bonnie had found and so far it was just faintly tinged pink from the dried blood and the refraction off of the petals.

 

A long sigh brought forth more that she just left to sink through the bubbles as she slid further down into Damon’s modern tub, fit for a king and his consorts. “Elena?” A cautious, high pitched voice rang through the rooms and she knew immediately that it was Caroline. The vampiress had made it a point to be there in case she was too weak to get out of the bath on her own but really the check-in every five minutes was starting to grate on her nerves.

 

“Yes, Caroline?” She answered, sounding just as defeated as she felt. She might as well get out now, the water was getting cool and Bonnie probably wanted an answer by now.

 

A head of pinned up blonde curls peered around the corner as Elena pushed herself up into a sitting position, “It’s not working is it?” Her eyes flicked over to the glass and Elena just shook her head. “You ready to get out? Need some help? Stefan mentioned that your iron was dropping and that it might be hard for you to do as much as you’re used to.”

 

That probably explained the constant low ring in her ears and the heavy pull to her arms. She pulled the plug on the drain and shifted to brace herself against the edge so she could get her feet underneath herself, “Could you pass me a towel?” Caroline slipped fully into the bathroom with a large white towel already slung over one arm, and a soft, apologetic smile on her face.

 

“I brought some of your clothes from home. I really wish you could just stay there for all of this. I don’t see why you have to be in Damon’s room either. Aren’t there like six bedrooms in this place?” Caroline unfolded and held out the towel as Elena stood and didn’t complain as a sudsy hand grasped her forearm for balance to get out of the tub.

 

“Caroline, you know why it has to be here. Everything is on one floor, and this way everyone can do what they need to do without running back and forth. It’s just easier.” Elena finished wrapping the towel around herself as Caroline bent to collect Bonnie’s failed experiment, “And none of the other bathrooms except for Stefan’s are working. Zak was remodeling, remember?”

 

“But you could be staying in Stefan’s room,” Caroline whined softly. She had this thought that Elena was meant to be with Stefan for the rest of her life and of course she already knew that the two of them were once again broken up.

 

“Stefan is still fighting his Ripper urges, Caroline. I’m not going to put him through that again. Damon isn’t terrible company either. Plus even if he could be around blood his room is upstairs. If I have low iron how is that supposed to help?” Her friend gave her a look like that was just an excuse, and yes maybe it was. But it was a _valid_ excuse, and one she couldn’t argue about.

 

“Fineee.”

 

They made their way over to the sink where Caroline had dropped off a duffle of clothing, all neatly folded and organized by each day with extra pajamas and shirts to change into. Honestly, Caroline was a lifesaver, even if she insisted on only packing the cute underwear and almost none of Elena’s favorite cardigans. “You’re not going outside anyway, what’s the point in having them?”

 

“They’re comfortable,” Elena defended, though it was a weak argument as she pulled a long shirt on over the rest of her clothes.

 

“I’m sure you have all the comforts in the world already. I saw the nest of blankets Damon made for you on the bed. You’ll be fine without your cardigans for a few more days.” Caroline lightly swatted her shoulder and Elena couldn’t hide the tiny smile on her face. Damon had made it a point to keep Elena comfortable for the last few days. He had gone so far as to bring in spare blankets from some unknown hall closet when she complained about being cold last night.

 

“Caroline Forbes, are you jealous?” She asked, her voice teasing and her eyes alight with amusement as Caroline groaned and rolled her eyes.

 

“Why would I be jealous?! You’re being treated like a patient, not like a princess or anything. Ugh, just- come on, you need something to eat. I brought soup.”

 

~~~

 

Over the course of the last week, Elena had coughed up a cacophony of flora ranging from stamen and petals to full blooms and even at one point pine needles. Bonnie had said something about pine being significant since it was considered to ward off evil influences. Which, when translated, meant that whatever was ailing her was clearly not a curse.

 

Elena sighed and pressed her face further into her newest safe haven- the only place people seemed to genuinely leave her alone right now. Well, everyone except- “Are you planting another garden in my bed or should I take that sigh to mean you miss me?” Damon.

 

Lately, any time he spoke to her it felt like her body eased, like those warm hues from that first sunset painted her insides in warmth and contentment. Which was insane, because well, Damon was Damon. He was an asshole, and he liked to flirt with anything that walked on two legs- thought she wouldn’t put it past him to flirt with a Centaur if those existed. Or maybe even a Naga. That was a thought. “Earth to Elena,” His voice sung through the protective covering of his Duvet and tingled down her spine in one of the most pleasant and unnecessary ways.

 

She lifted her head and turned a dull look to him but immediately felt that warmth curl up the back of her neck at the sight of him. Damon had no shame in his body, none what so ever, and after the first three times of trying desperately to get him to change in the bathroom, he had won out. He changed every day, sometimes even twice a day at the dresser or near the foot of the bed where his full-length mirror was. At one point he had even started to pester her to help him button his shirts as ‘payment’ for letting her crash in his bed.

 

And now he was standing there in an open shirt, clearly, one he was changing out of, with his dark jeans unbuttoned, unzipped and listing from the weight of the belt slipping through the loops. She should have expected he would be like that. It was Damon. “Why do you do that?” She groaned, dropping her head back onto the pillow she had been occupying. Her fingers pushed her brunette hair back from her face as another flurry of bold red petals fluttered into the air.

 

“Hey, you’re the one who is in my room, I make the rules and the rules say I can start stripping halfway down the hall if I so pleased.” He shrugged off his shirt and turned to throw it into a hamper somewhere out of sight. Not that she was looking, or admiring the soft muscle of his back. More rose petals danced against the sheets. She busied herself with picking them up and depositing the now obnoxious display into an already full trash bin. Damon had made a joke about using them for a bath one night and Elena had made a strong point to put the bin on the other side of the bed to prevent him from following through with the idea.

 

“And here I thought you had at once been a gentleman willing to indulge in a woman’s desire for modesty,” She quipped back.

 

Her immediate answer was a snort as he kicked his way out of his jeans and whipped his belt out of the loops, “Puh-lease. Any man with a woman waiting in his bed would agree with me if I said I was being considerate by undressing myself before I got there. In fact, some women would agree with me too, and have in fact appreciated my thoughtfulness on the matter.” He shook out his pockets and tossed spare change into a filling dish made of dark glass on the dresser.

 

Elena rolled her eyes and pulled her legs up to cross so she could lean against the headboard. He certainly wasn’t going to let her wallow in her emotions if he came home this chatty. Though she realized that maybe she had been wallowing because her near constant company had disappeared for the entire day, “So what did you have to do today that had your ‘awaiting lady’ question why the usually full bed was empty this morning? Finally, get fed up with the potpourri pouring out of my lungs? Decide to suffocate on cigarette smoke or drown your vampiric woes in booze since I’m obviously putting a kink in your sex life?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips.

 

Damon leaned out of his walk-in closet with a sly grin as he pulled a pair of sweatpants up to rest on his hips, “Why yes Elena, you have made it impossible for me to envision taking anyone else to my bed now that you’re here to greet me every waking hour with a mass of romantic flower petals covering my bed as you sleep in it. I’ll never be able to look at so much as a corsage without feeling weak in the knees from your displays of affection and attraction.” He easily caught the weakly thrown pillow that was meant to hit him in the face and deposited it back on the bed on his way past to the bathroom.

 

“You’re avoiding my question,” She muttered, resettling and pulling down the hem of her favorite camisole in annoyance. The sound of running water told her that he had gone to the sink to clean up and she tried to wait patiently for his answer.

 

“Which one? You asked me like six.” She huffed out a spray of yellow rue flowers that skittered past the foot of the bed. His answer didn’t come until after he finished what he was doing in the bathroom.

 

With a more sober expression, he mimicked her crossed legs and leaned against the smooth wood of his headboard with their knees brushing. She could feel herself choking again on a full, tightly closed bud of Dog Rose. Alaric thought it had been humorous to give her a book on flowers and their meanings to read up on while she was ‘being held captive by vampires’ for her ailment. It had been pretty easy to find her most recent flora of choice and now she couldn’t stop thinking about the meanings. Pleasure and pain.

 

“I went to one of my old haunts, met with a pretty old witch who had a lead on this whole flower girl thing you’re doing right now. The thing is, she belongs to Klaus’ little coven of witches now and wouldn’t unbutton her lip until he gave the say-so. Obviously, it didn’t take much to get him to agree since he still considers you to be valuable to his cause and all.”

 

She didn’t like it when he rambled, it always meant that he had news he didn’t really want to share. So what, was the cure impossible to get? Was she going to die? She looked at Damon who was waiting for her to prompt him and raised her eyebrows to urge him to his point, “And? Did she have anything useful?”

 

Damon’s eyes mapped out her face in that distracted way he seemed to do often lately, “She thinks it’s a magical disease. Something called Hanahaki, which roughly translates to vomiting flowers, by the way. Apparently, you’re in love with someone you think doesn’t return your feelings, or you’re having romantic dilemmas and hanging around Bennett Magic has manifested all of _this_ ,” He sprinkled a few blossoms of rue in front of her face and Elena frowned as she registered his words.

 

This was because of love for someone? He must have been able to read her confusion, “If it’s a lack of returned love I suggest you find someone else to pine over. And if you’re struggling over _who_ that someone is in your life, you better figure that part out pretty soon too.”

 

She slumped further against the headboard and rolled her head back to look at the tall ceiling of his room in distant thought, “So that means there’s a time limit to this.” Damon had a way of letting loose small or in this case _huge_ details that he didn’t exactly want to let slip.

 

They sat in silence for a few breaths and each one raised her anxiety more and more, “Once you get to the point where all you’re breathing out are full flowers she said you have twenty-four hours left before it kills you, Elena.”

 

That news clenched coldly in her chest and sent her mind into overdrive, “Have you told the others?”

 

Damon breathed out through his nose and Elena couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at him, knowing she’d find that ever-present pinch resting between his eyebrows and crowding the corners of his eyes. “They know. I called Stefan on my way back and he told Bonnie, who I’m sure has told Rick and Caroline by now- which means the whole supernatural community of Mystic Falls probably knows about it at this point.”

 

“Is there a way to stop it?”

 

“Short of confessing your feelings to the person making you love sick? Yeah, there’s another way, but I doubt you’ll like it.” She looked at him then, and there it was, that worried expression that barely concealed that deeply apologetic façade he wore any time he had to hurt her. It made her heart twist and her chest tighten.

 

“Bonnie can do a spell that will get rid of the flowers… But once she does it, you’ll forget everything about that person. All of your feelings, everything you’ve ever said to them, any memories you share with them. It will all be gone.”

 

“I guess that explains why they’ve been avoiding me all day, isn’t it?” Elena looked into her lap and reflexively crossed her arms around herself. No wonder Damon’s bed had felt like her invisibility cloak since eleven. “So if I take too long, are you going to pressure Bonnie into doing the spell even if I don’t want it?”

 

“As much as I want to answer ‘yes’, we can’t.” He was reluctant again and Elena resisted the urge to look into those piercing, searching eyes. She was hilariously weak against that look and knew that she would easily break if he asked for anything if he pinned her with his most open, most wounded and anxious stare. “You have to want the erasing spell. If she does it against your will, she’ll kill you.”

 

“I don’t want to forget,” The words tumbled from her tongue before she could even think about them. She shrugged her shoulders and felt a shift in her ribcage follow after the movement. Her hands covered her mouth as she cleared her throat again, yet another budding flower being tossed to the bin afterward. “But if I do this... Damon if I admit it to myself I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m afraid… I don’t want to hurt anyone else, I’ve already caused so much damage to the people around me. Bonnie lost her Grams, Caroline was turned into a vampire, Tyler is a hybrid, Stefan is one step away from going Ripper again, and I’ve lost so many people.”

 

Who knew that Damon could be so handsy when she’s emotional. Strong fingers squeezed the back of her neck reassuringly, anchoring her as she wept against his chest, aching from the realization that either way she was walking into a metaphorical minefield. Wilted corolla gathered in his lap and there was no doubt that she was smearing tears against his chest but still he held firm, sitting his chin on the crown of her head and letting her get it out of her system.

 

She wept until she couldn’t anymore, too drained of tears and energy to muster up more, feeling empty as scenario after scenario passed through her mind, each worse than the last. Caroline refusing to speak with her again. Bonnie losing something else because of how selfish she was, and how selfless the witch was. Stefan fully turning off his emotions and ripping through the east coast again. Damon going on a spree that eventually gets him staked by the sheriff or some wannabe vampire hunter- or leaving altogether. Losing someone else that she loves. It all hurt too much to even consider.

 

But with the bad options already imagined… Others started to seep through, mediocre but somehow better than the ones that had first come. The idea that they would all be able to heal after her choice. The thought that she could be happy, and not feel guilty every time she looked at her friends. Finally, finally being able to give in to the way she craved things. There was hope, even if she was terrified that one more wrong decision could ruin every little thing that mattered.

 

“If that’s all you have in you, then you really need to get better,” She felt the words more than heard them, and even still it cradled some anxious part of her. Her hands pawed at the tracks on her face and she sniffled but Damon didn’t let her sit back up even if the position started to pull at muscles in her hip and sides uncomfortably. No, instead he reached out and grabbed the duvet she had commandeered for the last two weeks and wrapped it around her like a shield.

 

If someone told her that she would seek out Damon for comfort when he first came to town she would wonder what alternate dimension they came from, or if they were talking about another vampire. Now, however… Something had changed, and she wasn’t certain she knew what or how it had changed. It felt good- almost right even- to be with Damon, even if he made bad decisions when his emotions ran high. Hell, who was she to judge, look at what all of her decisions had gotten them into.

 

Her hand scrambled to keep him where he was when she felt movement, but the gentle, yet firm grip around her wrist stopped her from digging her nails in like he was a lifeline and that line was about to be ripped away, “Calm down. You need water, I’m not going anywhere. I’m enough of a gentleman to know when and when not to leave a lady to her inner demons.” He slipped away from her like silk through her fingers and she watched as he disappeared one more time into the bathroom, glass in hand.

 

By the time he came back out, she had laid down again, curled up under the mass of cream covers and nested into one of the pillows. They all smelled like Damon in some way, some more than others, but she clung onto the nearest one and wrapped her arms tight around it for security, half of her face buried into it. The thought of taking it home when she was done with all of this snuck into her mind but was quickly pushed away when the lights were flicked off and the bed dipped to allow Damon’s body to rest beside hers.

 

Often times Elena would wake up to find they had tangled themselves together through the night, even if she hadn’t fallen asleep with him there in the first place. They didn’t talk about it, and no one really mentioned that Damon shouldn’t be sleeping with her in the first place. It was nice, despite waking up with a mound of flowers clinging to everything they touched. Damon’s room was almost constantly perfumed in the floral scent now, and so far he only complained one time, offhandedly in a way that told her it really didn’t bother him at all.

 

“Elena…” She watched his silhouette shift beside her until he was on his side, looking at her, examining her. He didn’t finish his sentence, just letting her name hang in the air as they lay there, staring at one another in the dark.

 

“Nothing would be worse than everyone losing you. Whatever terrible thing you have imagined that’s keeping you from making your choices… Those aren’t worth watching you die. We’ll heal, but there isn’t a chance to fix death.”

 

You couldn’t fix death. Funny hearing that coming from a vampire who was only ‘alive’ right now because he had died while trying to save the woman he had been in love with over 150 years ago. “If this thing starts killing me… Will you try to turn me?” Damon had made that rash decision in the past, forcing his blood past her lips to ensure that she would survive- even if that took away her choice. Even if it terrified her to think of a future where she had to kill people and animals to try and survive for the rest of her years. Damon would take responsibility for that though, he would teach her control, and she would accept it after time.

 

“Would you want me to?”

 

Silence hung between them for a long while as realization dawned on her that if it meant being able to keep Jeremy from mourning the loss of the last of his family, that if it meant avoiding a foolish funeral for herself, then yes. She would want Damon to turn her. A hesitant nod was all she managed, though it spoke volumes. She died once already and came back because of John and Bonnie. Now here she was, contemplating vampirism for the people she held dear.

 

The subtle pop of sharp teeth breaking skin drew her attention before a thumb was pressed against her mouth, not urgent but offering, “Drink. We’ll keep it in your system until a choice has to be made.” A warm bead of liquid seeped over her lips and she flicked her tongue out to collect it, feeling taste buds snag against the slight callous of his thumbprint. She did it again and even went so far as to press into it and suck, drawing the last of the blood from his skin as the wound healed.

 

It was different than the constant metallic tang on her tongue. Warmer and she thought maybe even thicker in a way. It sent a pleasant buzz through her system that loosened her grip on the pillow she held captive to her chest. Damon didn’t have to give her his blood right then, but she also understood that the plant rooting itself through her lungs grew in strange ways and he wanted to cover any opportunity.

 

“Klaus is going to hate you exponentially more if he finds out about this,” She whispered. A scoff of a chuckle came as response and she felt it lift the corners of her own lips.

 

“Like that’s going to change my mind. I refuse to regret saving your life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog Rose - Pain and Pleasure


	4. Jonquil or Daffodil

Acceptance of her feelings came the next morning. The subtle warm glow that spread through her body as she slowly woke to the rise and fall of her current pillow as he breathed, slow, deep and steady underneath her. The lazy ba-bump of his heartbeat every few minutes bringing her lips up into a content curl.

 

Something in her had settled last night. That constant gnaw of anxiety and guilt that liked to sit just below her ribcage was gone and she felt somehow clean and renewed. Of course, that didn’t stop the barrage of long, curved petals that magically appeared with each breath. A soft but brilliant yellow intermixing with the deep red of pristine and wilted flowers that still lingered from yesterday. A veritable nursery was once again on display in the light of the false dawn that crept through the windows. Small and large flora, whole and fragmented tickled across her bared legs and shifted with each shared breath.

 

Instead of despising it today she found herself feeling fond and pleased with the display. Whole Roses and Daffodils, petals from Lilies, the small branched collections of Lily of The Valley, violet dustings of Spiderwort, and countless others carpeted the bed and spilled over into the floor. She smiled as she spied a brilliant honey golden hued rose taking up residency in Damon’s bellybutton. Her fingers slid down to collect it but another hand caught hers before she could even slightly brush it with her fingertips, “Getting frisky there, aren’t you?” Damon’s words were sleep-hazed and puffed against the part of her hair.

 

She twisted their hands around and let her fingers trace the backs of his knuckles in lazy pets and swirls, “Just tactilely admiring my work,” She answered, voice just as soft and sleep hued.

 

He stretched minutely underneath her but didn’t push her away and Elena found herself curling closer into him, letting his cool body steal her warmth since he had yet to have his morning coffee. His fingers twitched underneath hers, flexing wide when she dipped into the webbing between two knuckles only to close and hold her fingers between them. She liked this. A lazy morning where it felt like the chaos of the world outside didn’t exist anymore. “Okay?” His tone didn’t imply confused acceptance, instead, he was asking if she felt fine and it didn’t surprise her at how immediate her answer was.

 

Her cheek smudged against his chest as she nodded and his arm that she hadn’t realized was lazily hooked around her waist tightened around her, strong and comfortable and appreciative. “Yeah. I’m actually feeling a lot better.”

 

“S’good.”

 

They stayed like that until false dawn became true, lighting the sky in pastel pinks as the sun once again rose over Mystic Falls for yet another day. Her, curled around him and puffing out petals and him lying there, rubbing the hem of her camisole with the points of his fingers. She was so relaxed she knew she could probably go back to sleep and stay that way for a few more hours but something nudged her conscience.

 

“Trying to get into my head again, Damon?” Amused, she turned so that her chin rested against his peck, rolling into him so she didn’t strain her neck. Damon was even more breathtaking when fresh from sleep, she had realized. His ruffled hair pointing in strange angles and lying flat in some places, face relaxed and those long black lashes framing his eyes. It made affection bloom in her chest to see him so relaxed and vulnerable… and trusting.

 

“Caught me red-handed,” He shrugged his other shoulder and she sighed fondly.

 

“If you wanted to know what I was thinking, you could have just asked.”

 

Damon slid his hand up her back and tugged her hair back from her face with a long deep breath filling and leaving his lungs. “What’s going on in your head, Elena?” He asked, humoring her.

 

She untangled her hand from his and slid it underneath her chin with another sighing breath of her own. A yellow daffodil skirted around his chin and her eyes followed it up to his, “I think I might be in love with you.”

 

His fingers continued to gather her hair, the edges of his mouth thinning as his eyebrows shifted at the declaration. “Do you mean that or are you just guessing?”

 

Elena tucked her chin down a little further and shook her head, “I mean it, Damon. This isn’t just some reach to see if it will take away this disease, and it’s not meant to string you on. I’m not sure when it happened, I don’t even know why it happene-” The hand at her back cupped around her neck and pulled her forward until she was being consumed.

 

Lips stroked against hers in a needy way as she struggled to get her balance, grasping Damon’s shoulder and leaning up onto her elbow. He clutched her waist and with very human control he twisted them to the middle of the bed, lying on her and licking into her mouth like he had planned on kissing her this way for centuries. It made her heart ache in one of the best possible ways. His breath puffed against her face and she lifted her fingers to curl into ebon hair and tug. “Damon,” His name slipped between them and he diverted to press more kisses into her jaw, tracing the arteries of her neck with the softest touch. “Damon,” she tried again, eyes closed and body pliant as he braced himself over her.

 

“Elena,” He murmured back between one kiss and the next, gliding over her collarbones. She pulled him down and turned her head to kiss the edge of his forehead. He was heavy but she accepted his weight and felt it settle in her chest.

 

“Elena,” His tone changed as he lifted his head, eyes trained on her chest where her skin started to itch and tingle. It felt like someone was scraping fountain pins over her heart and she grimaced at the sensation. His fingers tugged at the lace collar of her shirt and went so far as to pull the cup of her bra along with it until he could see it clearly. “There’s a mark.”

 

“What do you mean?” She sat up and looked down to find a spiral of thorns bleeding into her skin, dark and sharply pointed as they curved from outside to inside. They branded her skin and made her hiss in discomfort, but as the vine finally met the center a final cluster of flowers made their appearance. Small whirls of enthusiastic blue unfurled into forget me nots between the thorns, etched boldly and dotted with yellow centers against the now black background of the vine. A soothing tingle spread over the marking as the flowers settled, inked just above her heart. “That’s not going to be easy to hide at school…”

 

“I think I should make sure that’s the only one,” Damon looked up at her with that familiar, flirtatious look and she smirked at him, tangling her hands once more into his hair.

 

“Maybe you should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonquil - A desire for returned affection  
> Forget Me Not - True Love
> 
> There are other flowers mentioned here specifically but I feel the two above are the most important to mention. Also, Jonquils look a lot like Daffodils, so that's pretty cool.
> 
> The thorns for her new 'tattoo' are my way of referencing all of the hardships she put herself through before she could admit to herself that she loved him.


End file.
